A Carolina girl born and bred, living and working in Haiti since August 2010. I am passionate about social justice, but above all else I believe in the power of grace-filled love to truly change the world.
A similar policy of restricting the travel and immigration of people living with HIV has, of course, only very recently been lifted in the United States, and will not take full effect until the beginning of 2010.
(Click here if you are interested in reading my personal reflections on World AIDS Day.)
I have gotten a few requests for a more thorough post on kimchi since my arrival in Korea, and I figured that since we are currently in the throes of kimchi preparation season in the ROK, there would be no better time for me to tackle the subject.
Historically, the pickling and fermentation of cabbage and other vegetables arose from the need of an agrarian society to preserve it's main food source in order to get through the long, cold winters here on the Korean peninsula. Of course, in modern times this is no longer necessary, but the tradition of preparing for winter by making and storing pound after pound of kimchi persists-- though, now, rather than being stored underground, it is stored in special and widely popular kimchi refrigerators.
In my first post I described kimchi as a staple food of Korea, but in reality it is so much more. IMHO, kimchi qualifies as a cultural obsession among the Korean people, and serves as something of an icon for the nation. Last year, when the first Korean astronaut entered space, government research institutes spent millions of dollars developing a bacteria-free kimchi to send into orbit with him. Private and government funded websites, publications, and museums all devoted to the promotion and glorification of kimchi are plentiful, and it is suspected that the government has repressed the publication of research showing excessive consumption to be the cause of the high rate of gastric cancer found among Koreans. Kimchi is a source of national pride, and in Korea's quest to grow her cuisine's presence and popularity on the international scene, kimchi is the central tool.
Myth and speculation surrounding kimchi's ancient origins abound. Here is an example of one myth accounting for the foods' conception:
The origin of kimchi is attributed to a poor farmer who carried several old heads of cabbage to the sea to wash and freshen them. He noticed that these rather meager heads seemed to grow bulkier after sitting in the salty water, and decided he was onto something great. If a short washing in sea water made them a little heavier wouldn't an overnight soaking make them a lot heavier? His puny cabbage would become hearty and he would have more food for himself and his family. He left the cabbages to soak and returned expectantly the next morning, only to find that the pot he had left them in was half empty. He swore revenge on the cruel thief, not realizing that it was the salt in the water that had brought about the change in the contents of the pot and not a criminal. Perhaps driven by dispair, the farmer tore off a leaf from the wilted cabbage heads and popped it in his mouth. Yummmmm! Kimchi was born...
There are other stories like this one floating around, but, however it is that kimchi actually came about, there is no mistaking the food's importance in Korea, nor the value that Koreans have placed on it, both historically and today. Here's a little taste of kimchi propoganda:
The trailer below was linked to from LoveThatKimchi.com, one of many websites and blogs devoted to the food. Apparently this "Kimchi Khan" documentary has been 20 years in the making.
The article on wikipedia will tell you most of anything else that you might want to know-- and I am a lazy blogger-- so I will simply conclude by sharing with you pictures and recipes for my own top 5 favorite types of kimchi. Enjoy :)
1. Baechu Kimchi: Nappa cabbage kimchi, the most common variety Recipie found at whats4eats.com Makes about 2 quarts
Chinese cabbage, outer leaves removed, cut into 1-inch squares -- 1 head, or 2 1/2 to 3 pounds
Kosher or sea salt -- 1/2 cup
Scallions, finely chopped -- 4-6
Garlic, minced -- 2-4 cloves
Ginger, minced -- 1 tablespoon
Korean chili flakes -- 4-6 tablespoons
Sugar -- 1 tablespoon
Method
Add the cabbage and salt to a large glass or plastic bowl and toss together well with clean hands. Cover with plastic wrap and set aside for 2-5 hours.
Place the cabbage—which should now be soft—in a colander. Rinse out the bowl and then rinse the cabbage well with water. Squeeze out excess water and return cabbage to the bowl. This step removes excess salt.
Add the remaining ingredients and stir together with a wooden spoon. Place into a larg,, clean glass or plastic crock, container or jar and tamp down to remove any air bubbles. Cover with a lid and let set in a cool, dark place for 2-3 days.
Transfer to a new container and store refrigerated for up to two weeks.
2. Chonggak Kimchi: Ponytail raddish kimchi-- also called "bachelor kimchi"
Instructions: Peel radishes, taking care to leave green stalks attached. Wash radishes thoroughly. Drain in colander. Place on baking sheet and sprinkle with 1 cup salt. Mix and let sit 30 minutes. Separate garlic cloves and peel. Place garlic and ginger in food processor or blender and mince. Combine garlic mixture with green onions, chile, salted shrimp and 1 tablespoon salt. (If mixing with your hands, be sure to wear gloves to avoid chili burn. )Rinse salt from radishes. Drain in colander. Rub seasoning mix onto radishes. Set 2 (1-quart) jars on work surface. Divide radishes among jars. Let sit 2 to 3 days before serving. Refrigerate after opening. This recipe yields 2 quarts.
3. Oi Sobagi: stuffed cucumber kimchi, especially popular in spring and summer
Prepare the Cucumbers–Cut cucumbers in half across the middle. Slice the cucumber sections in half lengthwise, leaving the last 1/4 inch uncut. Turn the cucumber section half way and repeat. Lightly salt the inside surfaces and let stand for at least twenty minutes. Rinse, drain, and place in a large non metallic mixing bowl.
Prepare the vegetables–Grate or shred the Daikon and lightly salt. Fine chop the green onion
Mix the Seasoning Paste–Place the garlic, onion half, and ginger into a blender with just enough water to blend into thick smooth paste. Pour into a medium non metallic mixing bowl. Add all other seasoning ingredients and mix well. Add water as needed to maintain a thick paste. Add chive, daikon, and green onion, mix well. Let stand fifteen to twenty minutes.
Stuff Cucumber–Carefully stuff the seasoning paste into the slotted cucumber. Be careful not to break the uncut ends. Place stuffed cucumber into a large glass container, cover tightly, and let stand at least one hour. Refrigerate and serve cold with your favorite Korean meal.
4. Dongchimi: White radish kimchi, vinegary rather than spicy
Wash and clean 5 dans of jjook pa. Jjook pa is basically the same as regular greens onions, but they are thinner. Mix together the ingredients listed above: 1 CUP red pepper powder,1.5 TB sugar, 2 TB honey powder, 3 TB gga-nari fish sauce, 1 TB fish sauce, 3 TB rice wine, 6 TB water, 1 TB sesame seeds, 0.5 TB ginger powder, and 0.5 TB salt. Work the pepper mixture into the pa in thirds. Get 1/3 of the pa and 1/3 of the mixture and mix, and so on...
Once everything is mixed in well, let it sit for about 10-15 minutes. This will make the pa soft and much more easier to store. Finally, store in a container overnight and then let it ferment inside the fridge for a few days. After a few days it will be ready to serve!
Living in a foreign country and dealing with unfamiliar, often uncomfortable and sometimes frustrating occurrences on a regular basis, it can be easy to lose sight of just what a truly awesome blessing it is that I am here. So with Thanksgiving just a few hours away in the US, I am taking a moment to reflect on a few of the things that I am thankful for in Korea specifically.
Posted as a timely reminder to myself, here is a short list of five HUGE blessings that have come as a result of my being in Korea, in no particular order...
1. Meeting and getting to know family who I would have never otherwise had the opportunity to get to know
2. Growing relationships with precious friends here who have kept me grounded and encouraged by consistently speaking wisdom into my life
3. (Re)learning the depth of my need to rely on God's grace
4. Experiencing a different culture, and learning and growing from those experiences daily
5. Becoming connected to a part of my identity-- the Korean part-- that I had never been able to truly identify with while living in America
And none of these wonderful things would be happening to me had I not decided to come to Korea-- so I am also very thankful to all of you who encouraged me to go and who have helped me along the way. I really am truly and unbelievably blessed... :)
*** PS. I've been watching this video sent to me by a friend to help me get in the Thanksgiving day mood... Makes me smile everytime!
*This post is by special request from Julia Rose. :)*
I have recently gotten into following the KBL-- Korea's national professional basketball league. The level of play in the league is roughly comprable to college level play in the US, and it is a ton of fun to watch. I especially enjoy watching the league's few half-Korean American players-- perhaps I feel a kind of kinship with them, having one Korean parent and growing up in the US before moving to Korea.
One of these players in particular, though, I am unquestionably in love with, and that is Jeon Tae-poong-- aka, Tony Akins. He was the number one pick in the KBL's newly conceived and somewhat controversial "ethnic draft" for half-Koreans this past year (read more about the draft and the controvesy here). Growing up as an ACC fan in the States, I can remember watching Akins dominate at Georgia Tech as a student, and it is no different now that he is playing in the KBL. He is a small 5'11 guard with lightning quick feet, great awareness, and a completely unselfish style of play. Though he is older-- about 29, I think-- I would bet that he would be able to more than hold his own in the NBA.
And to top it off, even his skill and sportsmanship on the court aside, he is also ridiculously attractive.
Um, hi. Even if I weren't a basketball fan, I would follow Korean basketball just for this kid.
My favorite time of year has always been fall. I love the beautiful colors, the falling leaves, and that perfect middle ground where you can go out feeling perfectly content in nothing more than a long-sleeved t-shirt and your favorite pair of jeans. And fall in Korea, with its lovely mountains and high blue skies, has more than fulfilled my expectations.
The only trouble is that it hasn't lasted. We seem to have moved from balmy, humid summertime weather to snow flurries and down jackets in just a matter of a few short weeks. And with such a rapid descent into cold winter days, there has also come the temptation to become a little less energetic and just a little more pessimistic.
Luckily, however, I have been able to find a few fail-proof ways of keeping myself warm-- both inside and out-- as I transition into what is sure to be a long and chilly winter here in Korea.
1. Ondol
Ondol is Korea's unique underfloor heating system-- such a GREAT idea. It evolved from the millenia-old practice of heating the stone beneath the home in order to keep warm during winter. Thanks to ondol heating, rather than dreading getting out of bed and putting my feet down on the hardwood floor every morning, I actually look forward to the opportunity to make my toes all warm and toasty. It's so cozy that sometimes I'm even kind of tempted to get rid of my bed and sleep on the floor, traditional Korean style. (Well, I said kind of...)
2. Teatime
For some reason, even though it is freezing outside, my school insists on keeping all of the doors and windows in the hallway open at all times. So, despite the fact that I keep the heater in my classroom on full blast, the students still come in wearing coats and bundled in blankets, pouting "Teacher, cooolduhh!"Thus, the best part of my work day has become returning to my office right after lunch and being greeted by a steaming pot of Chinese tea. One of the older English teachers-- she is one of those sweet and precious women who act as a mother towards everyone-- serves tea to a few of my co-teachers and me, and we all spend a few minutes warming up and chatting. The tea and the company both warm my insides, giving me the extra little boost I need to get through my afternoon classes.
3. Christmas-y-ness
One great side-effect of it becoming cold so quickly and early here is that it puts me in the mood early for all things Christmas, and just thinking about the Christmas season makes me completely, inexplicably and absurdly happy-- I never tire of Christmas music and can watch Love Actually, A Christmas Carol, and A Charlie Brown Christmas endlessly. Getting into the spirit and preparing for the holiday that celebrates the birth of Christ is a surefire way to keep me warm and happy even in the bitterest cold.
4. Book Club
I absolutely love getting lost in the pages of a new book. Few things make me happier than curling up with a good long book and a warm cup of tea on a cold winter day. And meeting with friends to be able to talk about what I've read is like icing on the cake... or, in better keeping with the theme of this post, whipped cream topping on a mug of steamy hot chocolate. Every Monday night for about a month now, three other foreign teachers and I have met up for Dak Galbi (a yummy spicy pan-fried chicken dish that never fails to warm us up and clear out our sinuses) before heading to Starbucks or another nearby coffee shop for hot drinks and discussion. We get into some really interesting topics, and those once dreaded Mondays have become much more bearable, knowing that I have book club to look forward to at the end of the day. 5. Playing in the park and other fun adventures
Because of my arthritis, it is particularly important for me to get out and move around during the winter months-- if I don't, I will turn into one very stiff, sore and cranky girl.During the week this means taking regular walks in the park (which I've mentioned on the blog before and still love to do), but on the weekend I get to be more creative. And lucky for me, there is never any shortage of things to do here, so planning active adventures that I am motivated to do is no challenge.May seem a little backwards, but I look forward to doing more hiking and outdoor activities in the winter than I have during the warmer months. Although, I may eventually need to get some better shoes and a warmer coat if I want to keep it up...
Introducing Haechi, the iconic symbol associated with the vibrant, thriving and inviting international city of Seoul.
Atleast, that is what the mayor of the city is hoping he will soon come to represent.
This article reporting on the release of Haechi as the chosen icon for Seoul last year states that the mayor "wants Haechi to become like the Big Apple of New York, Merloin in Singarpore and Buddy Bear of Berlin." He even promotes referring to Seoul as "The City of Haechi."
So, as a lover of Korea's capital, I am now officially doing my part to promote Seoul's international image by presenting the lovable icon to you, my dear family and friends.
Cute, right? And who would ever guess that he is also a fierce defender of justice and peace?
In the picture below, I am posing at Gyeongbok palace in Seoul with Haechi's forefather, traditionally known as Haetae-- a figure from Korean and Chinese mythology that guards against disaster and injustice. He has the body of a lion with the horned head of a fire-eating dog. The particular Haetae pictured below was placed outside of the Joseon dynasty-era palace to serve as protector of king and city.
As you can see from the following images, however, Haechi has recently also taken on some slightly different and more varied duties:
Obviously, I am completely in love with the little guy; he is hands down the cutest fire-eating dog I have ever seen. I wonder where I could find myself a stuffed Haechi-- that's going on the to-do list for sure...
콩글리시 or Konglish (Korean+English) is a well worn term within Korean and expatriate communities alike that refers to a phenomenon that anyone who has ever traveled to Korea-- or to any number of other countries throughout Asia-- is certainly familiar with. Everywhere you turn here in the ROK you can see English words used in entertainment and advertising, on clothing, and in everyday conversation. Sometimes these words are actual English words, other times they are "Korean-ized" versions of English words, and still other times they are English words creatively melded together with Korean words. Often the words mean something different to Koreans than they would to a native English speaker. And in sentences that employ Konglish, I would say that, more often than not, there are what would generally be considered by native speakers to be significant mistakes in sentence structure and usage.
Click on the video below to listen to an older but still classic K-pop song that beautifully demonstrates Konglish in action...
Just google "konglish" and click on images to see plenty more examples-- Konglish can be found on everything from billboards, to street signs, to clothing and other goods.
Usually when I have heard the term Konglish used by Koreans here in Korea, I have sensed an undercurrent of self-criticism and bitterness in their generally light and teasing tone. Whether or not this is usually the case when Koreans mention Konglish, though, I really can't say. I am a foreigner, and it is therefore assumed that I will in some way think less of them for "misusing" the English language-- an assumption which undoubtedly colors the way Koreans express themselves around me. After all, one of the major motivating factors for bringing native English speaking teachers into public schools in the first place is to try to halt the transfer of commonly made mistakes in usage and grammar from the Korean teacher to student. There seems to be a big fear here that the use of Konglish in foreign environments will bring shame on both the individual who uses it and on Korea in general.
Without weighing into the debate on whether or not Konglish is a good or bad thing for Korean culture, whether it's use is beneficial or whether it's purpose is valid, I am simply going to say that I personally love Konglish. I think it's often creative, inventive, clever and charming. I mean, "if you wanna pretty, every wanna pretty"? How cute is that?
Now, I am certain that there are varieties of Konglish that do much more harm than good, and I want to be clear that I am not attempting to dismiss the fact that there may be real problems that both undergird and arise from the widespread use of incorrect and sometimes nonsensical English. Neither do I want to minimize the counter arguments that insist on the meaningfulness and value of what might seem to be gibberish to the native speaker in the Korean context. All I mean to state here is simply that, even after being in Korea for nearly three and a half months, hearing Konglish still warms my heart and makes me want to smile.
I suspect that my soft spot for Konglish is mainly due to the fact that hearing it makes me feel at home here in Korea. While I may not be able to understand much actual Korean, I have no problem at all with understanding Konglish. My own mother and grandmother are, after all, expert users of the sub-language, and that has made me, in turn, an expert interpreter.
Of course, Konglish is nothing if not constantly evolving, and being in Korea has given me a Konglish education that I never could have gotten at home. Two of my newest personal favorite terms are "paiting," aka fighting-- a word to be yelled at sporting events in a similar way that some might yell "Victory!"; and "grlamor," aka glamour-- used to mean something like sexy and curvy, as in "Beyonce is so grlamor."
For now, suffice it to say, I think you can expect many more posts devoted to celebrating the joy that is Konglish coming from me in the future...
Veteran's day in the US is just wrapping up as I write this post, so I wanted to take a short moment to give tribute to two very special men that I love with all my heart and without whom I probably would not be in Korea right now at all.
Both of my grandfathers served in the US military and were stationed here in Korea. My father's father, who is still living, served as a paratrooper in the Army during the Korean War and was stationed just north of Seoul. My mother's stepfather, who has since passed away, later served as commanding officer at Osan Air Base.
These two men have been two of the biggest influences on my life. They are, without a doubt, two of the bravest, toughest, strongest, handsomest, and most absolutely loving men the world has ever been blessed to know. Words cannot express the love, admiration and gratitude that I have for these two very special people.
I can only hope that my Halabogi truly knew how much I love him and how thankful I am for everything he did and for who he was.
To my dear and wonderful Grandaddy... thank you and I love you. From the very bottom of my heart.
Pepero. You might know them as Pocky sticks-- the Japanese version more commonly sold in the states.
Growing up my mom would often purchase these little chocolate covered sesame sticks from the Oriental food market as special treats for my sister and me. One year, I in turn gave them out as valentines to my class, excited to be able to give something somewhat unique that would share my Korean-ness with my friends.
It wasn't until coming to Korea, though, that I discovered there is actually an entire holiday devoted solely to the giving and recieving of the tasty little treats.
Today, November 11th, or 11.11 (imagine 4 pepero sticks lined up neatly in a row), marks the celebration of the unoffical but wide-spread Korean holiday Pepero Day. On this day, friends, family and sweethearts exchange boxes of Pepero as a show of affection. It is similar to Valentine's day-- but the vibe I get is a little more playful, and a little less romantic. The boxes of Pepero, of course, are specially decorated with hearts and flowers to promote the holiday. There are even giant gift baskets and stuffed Pepero toys for those who really want to go all out.
It's quite impressive what a bit of clever marketing can do-- the holiday has really taken off, and I was told that nearly 50% of Lotte's Pepero sales happen in November, despite the fact that it has obviously been entirely contrived by the candy's makers just for that purpose. And a number of other retailers are capitalizing on the Pepero Day hype as well by giving out free Pepero with every purchase. Even at the bank earlier this morning, I was greeted by a tall glass full of Pepero sticks sitting on the counter. Turns out, though, that despite all the obvious enthusiasm in the stores and on the streets, the Korean goverment is not so happy with the holiday, and for the past 3 years have been making a big push to promote the exchange of Garaetteok (Korea's traditional rice cake sticks) instead of Pepero, in order to raise domestic rice consumption. Read about their efforts here.
Noble cause, I suppose, but if the excitement that my middle school students (and co-teachers) express over giving and recieving Pepero is any indication, I'm just not sure that rice cake will be able to compete.
Last month the Lonely Planet put out a list of the 9 cities that people hate the most, and I was sad to see that Seoul came in at number three.
Check out what they said in the full list, reproduced below....
Detroit, USA – Crime, pollution and crumbling infrastructure don’t appeal to you.
Accra, Ghana – Ugly, chaotic, sprawling and completely indifferent to its waterfront location.
Seoul, South Korea – According to one comment, ‘It’s an appallingly repetitive sprawl of freeways and Soviet-style concrete apartment buildings, horribly polluted, with no heart or spirit to it. So oppressively bland that the populace is driven to alcoholism.’
Los Angeles, USA – A highly contentious pick, placed here because of its ‘uncontrolled sprawl, pollution, appalling traffic and ugly freeways.’
San Salvador, El Salvador – Widely acknowledged as the grubbiest of the Central American capitals.
Chennai, India – We describe it as lacking Mumbai’s prosperity, Delhi’s history or Bengaluru’s buzz. Even the movie stars are ‘not that hot.’ You think we’re being generous.
Arusha, Tanzania – A gateway to natural wonder that has more than its share of rust. Get out as quickly as you can.
Chetumal, Mexico – Combining the worst of mass tourism and outlying decay, Chetumal just doesn’t charm you.
No heart or spirit to it...? So oppressively bland that the populace is driven to alcoholism...? Ouch.
I have to say that I disagree wholeheartedly. While I recognize that I may be a little biased, my own experience of Seoul has been more like that described here: a city of spirit and energy, with many layers and flavors.
Though the article that I linked to just above is a little (okay, a lot) effusive in its praise, there are still gems of truth hidden in there. I particularly like the following excerpts...
"Seoul is the grinning devil on your shoulder that whispers 'play'. Its teeming night markets, 24-hour barbecues and surging clubs all beg the question: 'Why sleep?' But turn onto a side street, away from the shimmer of skyscrapers against buzzing neons, and you're met with the hushed, gentle tones of the past...
"...[Seoul is a] modern city endlessly renewing and reinventing itself - Seoul will be whatever its myriad denizens make it. There's a constant, transformative energy here, one that takes into account what has been lost but also gained. It's in the team of early-bird hikers getting ready to meet the dawn from a Bukhan mountain shrine. It's in the merry Seoulites joining a foreign melange for beers in Itaewon. And it's in the elderly man warbling into a karaoke microphone at Jongmyo Plaza Park, swaying to the rhythm, sweetheart in his arms...
"...As your taxi whisks you through a blur of light and humanity, you may find yourself reflecting quietly upon the tiny wooden teahouse you just visited, or the first cherry blossoms of spring glowing in the moonlight along the Han River. Congratulations - you've begun to embrace the raucous alongside the genteel. Just the first peel of the disarming, enticing layers of Seoul."
Maybe in forming an opinion of Seoul-- or any other city for that matter-- it all depends on whether or not you allow yourself to look beyond the freeways, pollution and concrete to discover the spirit of the people who live there.
5. The Christmas is Here sign that's been posted outside of Starbucks for almost a month. While I am slightly dissapointed that Korea seems to have passed over the Pumpkin Spice Latte season, I do enjoy the fact there is nothing here that stands in the way of my urges to start listening to Christmas music and decorating at the beginning of November.
4. iTunes U-- I spend a good bit of time every week and weekend on the subway, and what would have been wasted hours this past week were instead spent getting educated for free!
3. Hiking Gwanaksan Mountain and enjoying the gorgeous view from the peak-- particularly satisfying considering how challenging I found it to get to the top.. quite a rocky climb.
2. Finally getting around to lighting the pumpkin spice candles sent to me back in September from my fantastic family and friends at home.. my little apartment now smells deliciously warm, homey and cozy, even if it doesn't quite look it.
1. Sweet friends, good conversation and chai tea lattes... all three just warm up my insides and make me feel good all over. Their combination is perfection :)
Last week, 60 plus students in my school were out with the swine flu, so for the past two weeks we have all had to wear surgical masks. It's pretty obnoxious and can be extremely difficult to keep myself from tearing the thing off in complete frustration as I attempt in vain to use my muffled voice to keep the attention of 45 sixteen-year-olds who are currently in the throes of Korean senioritis (it hits early here because of the amount of pressure put on where a student goes and how hard they work in highschool). Nonetheless, since the school principal makes at least three announcements a day reminding students to wear their masks, and all the other teachers are very strict on enforcing the mask-at-all-times rule, I know that I must, at the very least, try to set a good example by wearing my own. If I thought it would make a difference I might cite that the "CDC does not recommend the routine use of personal protective equipment, such as ...surgical masks, for protection against influenza exposure." But, alas, this is not home, and it would not, so I've resigned myself to my fate (I just love to be over-dramatic :P).
There is one small factor that does make the mask requirement a little more tolerable. Being that we are talking about middle school students in Korea-- the land of Hello Kitty lovers and all things cutesy-- it is obvious that plain surgical masks would never do. Plus, since the students are allowed to purchase their own masks rather than wear school issued ones, the masks provide them with their only chance to assert their individuality through fashion in a school where they are all required to wear the same uniform and the girls are all made to wear the same layerless bob and cropped bangs that the boys very disdainfully refer to as "the Choji cut." Thus, mask designs range in everything from pig snouts and whiskers to faux Burberry to wildly creative doodles drawn on with magic marker.
Although I couldn't take pictures of my own students in their masks, and these people don't look nearly as cute or as hilarious as my kids, the photos below give a bit of an idea of what I get to look out at as I try to conduct class everyday.
At least I have a mask of my own to hide behind when I can't help but burst into silent laughter at the sight of them. Sometimes it's the little things that brighten my day.
Halloween this year came and went for me without much notice. As much as I love anything to do with fall and pumpkins and seeing kids and animals dressed up in cute outfits, I've never been that into celebrating the holiday myself (well, except for in college, but that is mainly because festivities on Franklin Street were kind of an obligatory part of the UNC experience :) ). And, being that Halloween is a Western tradition, it's not such a big deal to Koreans either. Yes, many English language hagwons held Halloween parties where the younger kids had the opportunity to go trick-or-treating-- even my own students, who are between the ages of 14 and 17, mind you, came up to me in the halls yelling "trick or treat" and hoping for candy-- and many young people, both foreigners and Koreans, who frequent the Itaewon and Hongdae bar scenes in Seoul did dress up in costumes for a night of celebration and bar hopping. However, aside from these instances where Western and American culture is "in," Halloween is not generally celebrated in Korea. Which is fine by me.
However, when I saw this pic of a friend of mine from the States who dressed up as an Asian tourist, I just had to post it.
So on point-- captures the stereotype perfectly.
Made me wonder if anyone here in Korea has ever dressed up as aWestern tourist for Halloween, and what exactly that costume would entail. Based on what I know of Korean stereotypes about Americans, I imagine they might don a nasty pair of flip-flops, a worn-out backpack and a rather sizable beer gut...
I don't know how many of you have seen the movie Sweet November, but I watched it for the first time a couple weeks ago when I wasn't feeling well and was forced to take a sick day from school. I couldn't actually remember having heard of the movie before, but I wanted something sweet, warm and fall-like to make me feel better, and the title sounded promising. The storyline of the movie follows the journey of a workaholic named Nelson who, in a single day, loses everything that matters most to him-- his job, his girlfriend and his dignity. He accepts an invitation to stay with a relative stranger who he met only a few days before in a chance encounter at the DMV. She is a woman who habitually opens up her home and heart to men who "need her help", the one condition being that he stay just for one month, at which point their relationship would end. Nelson becomes her "November" project. They live together and behave as a couple, getting to know one another intimately. Of course, she changes him as she set out to do, but for the first time she is deeply affected as well.
It's actually not a very good movie, and when I say that, you should really believe me; I normally love this type of syrupy-sweet and overly dramatic/sad/romantic/absurd storyline, but this movie barely managed to keep my attention. I don't think I would have finished it had it not been for the fact that I was feeling too sick to be motivated to get up and turn it off. (Just as a side note, and to be fair to anyone out there who loves this movie and thinks that I am being a little too harsh, I have to admit that it is entirely possible that my unabashed and long-standing disdain for Keanu Reeves' acting [in]abilities may have unfairly influenced my perception of the film's quality.)
If you are reading right now, you are probably wondering if all this rambling about a mediocre chick-flick is actually leading somewhere and what in the world it has to do with my life in Korea. I'm getting there, I promise. As much as I found Sweet November to be an unsatisfying film, there are elements at the core of the movie's message that I appreciated and could relate to well. Keanu Reeves' character in the movie starts off with his priorities way off base, and he is suffering greatly for it. It is only through radically altering his lifestyle-- both involuntarily and voluntarily having stripped away the things that had over-crowded his life and that had ultimately caused him to be blind to the things in life that truly mattered-- that he was changed. The heart of the movie is about re-aligning one's priorities, freeing oneself from distractions, and becoming the kind of person who both experiences and is invested in the fullness of life, love and relationships.
And it is because of this-- and because it is November-- that I have decided to informally adopt the same title, "Sweet November," for a personal project that I will be embarking on for the next month of my time here in Korea. I am seeking transformation and a re-alignment of my priorities, and am attempting to do this by somewhat forcefully altering my lifestyle for a single month-- a month that will hopefully push me to grow and to truly consider what I value most.
On Sunday November 1st I began a one month period of refusing to spend money on myself. I have strictly budgeted for a month's worth of food and transportation expenses, and beyond that, will not allow myself to make other purchases. I know that this is not the most unique or extreme idea, and maybe this would seem quite easy to some people, but it is very appropriate for me right now. As some of you already know, when I came to Korea, I went through a difficult period of realization about myself, where I had been placing my trust and what I had been prioritizing in my life. I realized that over the past couple years, while I have attempted to keep up the appearance of living a life in line with my proclaimed values, in actuality I was using my work and my relationships with others to mask a heart that was far from focused on loving God and loving others-- a lie that most glaringly manifested itself in the way that I chose to spend my money.
Ironically, before coming to Korea I thought that getting away from America and it's consumer culture and putting myself in a new environment, would make it easy for me to re-make myself and put my personal life-- and specifically my spending habits-- more in line with my professed values. However, Korea is, like the US, quite a materialistic culture. And on top of that, Koreans have really great fashion sense, making shopping that much more tempting for me. All of the clothes, shoes and jewelry sold here for women are very feminine, as well as fashion forward, and I absolutely love it. The obsession with fashion here is catching. A friend of mine recently admitted to being caught by her husband taking covert pictures of women on the subway in order to document their outfits, and I had to admit that I had been tempted to do the same thing on more than one occassion. (Of course, I also caught my students taking pictures of a pair of purple boots that I wore to school last week, so maybe people wouldn't consider it rude here. In general, Koreans are very honest and straightforward about expressing whether they like-- or don't like-- some aspect of a person's appearance, whether you are a friend or a stranger.) I love to go out window shopping or people watching here in Korea, simply to soak in all of the frilly/chic adorableness that abounds.
But "soaking it all in" is what has always been my problem. Not only do I take in the sights, but I passively soak in the attitude of the world around me when it comes to consumerism, adopting it for myself, rather than actively striving to live in a way that is not only thoughtful, responsible and socially-conscious, but that is loving, generous and sacrificial.
I anticipate that this month will hold for me both difficult lessons and sweet treasures. I am only 4 days in and have already come up with at least 5 things (two of them rather sizable) that, had I not previously made this commitment, I would have gone out and bought, easily convincing myself that I needed the item. And I actually found it legitimately difficult to stop myself, even though I had already made up my mind what I was going to do-- which has shown me just how deeply these selfish urges are ingrained in my attitude and behaviors. I am sure that I will continue to learn much more about myself as the month continues on, and I hope and pray that the lessons lead to more permanent change.
(I'll try to post my reflections as they arise from my Sweet November project to my other blog, To Fight for Love.)
It's hard to believe that I am going into my fourth month here and am already past the halfway mark of my first semester as an ESL teacher. The time that I have spent in Korea has truly flown by. I wonder if the next 9 months will continue to fly by just as quickly.. because right now I am starting to feel like staying for just a year is no time at all and may not be enough time for me to experience Korea in the way that I would really like to...
In some recent conversations that I have had with friends and family, I have lamented the fact-- well, the feeling, really-- that I don't do anything "productive" with my life here. And I have gotten a lot of the same responses, which have challenged the way that I have been defining productivity, as well as caused me to reflect on the rightness of the way that I have been determining what is worth my time.
First, in response to my complaints and self-criticisms, I am always asked how it is that I am spending my time here. And I answer: I teach English, I work hard at it, and I try to go a good job. I spend time writing creatively, and I am making an attempt at my first novel since I was about 12 years old. I have started up a creative writing group that meets every other week, and have also joined a bi-weekly book club. I am rediscovering my inner artist, and have put my name on a waiting list for a ceramics and painting class. I go to church, and joined up with a small group studying Luke's gospel. I explore Seoul and neighboring cities, spend time with friends and continue to get to know my family. And that's it.
And the response is always simple, always the same: "What's wrong with that?"
A legitimate question. And the answer is truly nothing. But in the way that I have been living my life and constructing my values over the past few years (particularly during my time in highschool and- to an even greater degree- in college), I have warped my mind into believing differently. See, prior to coming to Korea, I had, over a number of years, founded an identity on being over-committed. I founded my identity on the amount of time and activity that I devoted to my pet causes (women's issues, human trafficking, children's rights, health care, social justice ministry in the church, etc.), and on my ability to prove my intellect through academic achievement. Doing things defined me, and I piled on commitment after commitment.
In fact, in the spring semester of my junior year, I actually ended up having a kind of nervous breakdown during exams because of this very tendency. I had taken on so much and put so much internal pressure on myself that I finally broke and could no longer function. I'll spare you the details, but my body and mind literally shut down and forced me to stop working and studying. It scared me, and I gave up studying, quit one of my jobs, informed my professors that I would be turning in my assignments late, and decided that whatever happened would simply happen-- but that I could not sacrifice my health and sanity for the sake of keeping my insane number of commitments and making the grade. The irony is that in the end, even without studying and with extensions granted by my professors, my final grades ended up being just as good or better for that semester when compared to any any other. The pressure and anxiety that I felt had been generated solely by my own attitudes and choices, rather than by any external forces.
After that semester, I spent the summer in Amman, Jordan for a study abroad program and internship. My responsibilities there, in comparison to those I had at home, were light. I was able to get away from all of my usual commitments, get out of my comfort zone and refocus and recoup. So, feeling better, I of course returned to school the next semester believing that I could take everything back on-- and possibly more-- and be able to "handle it" better this time.
Bet you can imagine how well that went. I took on more and more, even to the point of working three internships, plus two part time jobs, while completing my last semester of college. I had hit a wall in my junior year, but somehow convinced myself it had only been a small bump, because in my heart I believed the lie that if I didn't continue to keep myself busy and occupied with service-oriented activities, I wasn't living a "good" life.
Realistically, I could not keep up with everything that I had committed to do. I never had another breakdown, but instead experienced a steady decline in my ability and desire to fulfill my responsibilities and perform the tasks that I had at one time so deeply desired to do. I found myself always doing the bare minimum, cutting corners just to get by, and often feeling frustrated and resentful towards those things that I had so readily volunteered to take on.
Now, all of the above are things that I knew about myself before coming to Korea, but the reality of the matter is that old habits die hard. From the very beginning, I felt that I had to justify my coming to Korea in some way-- after all, going to Korea just to see what it was like didn't seem like a good enough reason, and teaching ESL had never been an aspiration of mine. I had tutored in ESL before and loved it, but that was under quite different circumstances. My students were Burmese refugees who were eager to learn because they had just arrived in America and needed to learn English in order to get jobs so that their families could have food and a place to live. In contrast to this experience, the idea of being a teacher in a Korean public school just didn't sit well with me-- I didn't feel that I would be meeting any real and immediate need. Rather, I would just using the job as a means to a rather selfish end (that end being travel to Korea to get to know my family history and background).
I didn't believe that I should take a year and "waste" it in Korea without a greater purpose. So, before coming here I made a list of all the things I would do to make my time here more "productive" and "worthwhile." That list included volunteering (I had a number of ideas), working on the issue of sex trafficking in and around US military bases, conducting research about North Korean freedom, and learning to speak Korean (in case I wanted to become a Foreign Services Officer). I came armed with a list of organizations and people to contact. But, upon arriving here, to the small extent that I have sought to pursue any of these ideas, doors seem to keep getting shut in my face. Besides, I have found it difficult to get things done outside of work, when I have to be either in the classroom or my office from 8-5 everyday and come home feeling pretty worn out. I would still love to pursue the things on my list, but right now, with my job and with my lack of knowledge about the language and culture here, the timing is not right.
And I have realized that I should be contented with that, and that maybe I should even see it as a gift. Perhaps this is a season of preparation and rest that God is granting me. And who am I to say that it is not worthwhile and good?
I have naturally gravitated in my time here towards the kinds of activities that fill me up and give me genuine joy, but which were completely neglected and overshadowed by my need to achieve and to be "productive" in the past-- activities like writing, expressing myself creatively, and studying and learning simply for the pure love of it.
And I think that this could be exactly what I need-- perhaps it is even the reason that I am here; to learn contentedness, and to learn how to rest well, so that in the future I can love and serve better.
... here is an op-ed written by the Health Director at Human Rights Watch-- and originally published in the Korean Times earlier this year-- reflecting on the spread of and response to HIV and AIDS in South Korea.
